Fractured Serenity
by Voice of the Shadow Realm
Summary: Continuing from 'Lingering Serenity'. Jūshirō sighed heavily. 'This is not the same, Byakuya. You can't simply shield her from everything anymore. There is a war coming, people will be wounded, some will be killed, and your keeping her away from the front lines will hinder her more than help.' Rated M for later chapters (Edited)
1. Chapter 1: Fractured Illusions

**Fracturing Serenity.**

**Author's Note:-**

Welcome back to those who are following my mini 'Serenity' series. I present to you, the second story.

I need to stop trying to set myself a deadline with my updates, I never stick to them. Simply because of work and plush making (second job) and that I have a strange way of writing. I physically can not draft, I write without notes, but I write like a paragraph or two at a time, or a particular scene and then weave the story from there, so my updates are sparse and irregular. Rest assured that I do have three other chapters/stories in various stages of progress and will eventually make it up here.

I love the RenRuki pairing. Hell, I love pretty much all Renji pairing's, the guy is just so easy to pimp off to pretty much anyone in the Bleach Universe, however, RenRuki is my fav het pairing and I love being able to finally hook the two little street urchins up together.

In this installment we find the pair as a focus point for two other characters who will end up playing a fairly large role in the rest of the series. It is my first time writing either Byakuya or Ukitake and having two nobles with slightly different formalities in their speaking was kinda hard to balance. I have done my darndest to keep Byakuya very formal in his speech, relaxing my strictness a little for Ukitake and finally, when we get to Renji speaking, he will from now on have a roughened edge to his speech. I kinda imagined him with more of a street drawl, and now I'm getting the hang of writing it (you will see in later chapters.)

Anyways, I hope you enjoy it.

(Edited on 29/03/2012)

**Disclaimer:- I do not own, nor to I make any claims to, Bleach and/or its characters and storyline. I am simply a late-to-the-party fan who enjoys fanfiction, both reading it and writing it. The only profit I make from this is the knowledge that I may, perhaps, encourage others to venture more into the Bleach Universe by helping to keep the fandom alive alongside the thousands of other fans.**

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**Chapter One. Fractured Illusions.**

Tentative fingers of sunlight caressed the elegant structures that jutted skyward. Golden tendrils of warmth pursued the dawn chill from the shadows cast by the Seireitei's boundary walls, the bland white of sekkiseki glowing silver against the pastel colours that streaked the skies. However, despite the early hour, several Shinigami silently patrolled the mostly empty streets, nudging awake the occasional drunken lower officer still sprawled from a night of heavy drinking and sending them toward their assigned division's barracks with a sharp reprimand ringing through their sake soaked skulls. Other Shinigami used this time to enjoy a moment of peace and quiet before needing to report in to their barracks and receive their orders and duties assigned for the day. Blissful moments like these were scarce now, the war was not yet won and tempers had shortened considerably since the betrayal of the three ex-taichō, training efforts had redoubled in attempt to prepare for the upcoming final battle.

Which was why, behind the barracks of the Sixth division, two Shinigami circled each other warily, Zanpakutou unsheathed and angled toward the other. Both were formidable warriors, with each of them boasting different strengths, that fact was undeniable; however, their recent stint in Hueco Mundo as part of an unofficial rescue team had proven as little more than evidence that they were simply not ready for the former taichō Aizen and his army.

'Now roar, Zabimaru!' His rich voice shattered the calm morning air with the command. Spirit energy shimmered and flared wildly under the broad palm as it skimmed over the katana blade, releasing the savage form of his Shikai. Renji's lips quirked in pride at the sight of his Zanpakutou, the shudder of raw power that radiated from the hilt in his hand and the deeply powerful voice of the nue as it bellowed a battle cry that throbbed and echoed in his mind. He lifted his ruby hued eyes to his opponent, a slight female Shinigami with heavily lidded eyes, as dark a blue -almost indigo- as the midnight skies on a moonless night. She looked so delicate, almost like a doll, barely reaching his shoulder when standing and, even now, with his knees bent and his shoulders dropped in readiness, her forehead would scarcely reach his jaw and yet, when Rukia raised her chin, it was with elegance and the dominating presence that marked her as a noble.

Her katana chimed a haunting melody as she twisted her wrist in a counter clockwise motion and her lilting voice called to her Soul Cutter. 'Dance, Sode no Shirayuki.' Chilling winds coiled around the small Shinigami's body, stirring the silken black strands that fell neatly around her delicate cheeks and skimmed her shoulders. From the pure white pommel an ivory silken ribbon now flowed, a manifestation of the crystalline flakes of her spirit energy that flurried and twirled elegantly, accentuating her graceful movements. Sode no Shirayuki, reputed as the most beautiful Zanpakutou in all of the Seireitei, sparkled like cut diamonds in her hands. Fragile and cold and very, very dangerous, a perfect partner for Rukia Kuchiki.

Renji felt his throat tighten instinctively against the eager rumbling of a growl that vibrated up from his chest, trying to restrict the animalistic sound. Red heat crept along his neck, embarrassed by the brutish habit that had developed as he battled his way through the ranks in the Eleventh division. He set his jaw as he reined himself back in check mentally, reminding himself; as well as the battle hungry nue, his soul partner, that this was simply a sparring session, and that he was facing not only a comrade that he had fought alongside and protected in dozens of fierce battles but a woman he was now closer to than he ever was when they had been children growing up in the slums of the Rukongai. Zabimaru snarled a sharp retort, an insult directed at his master's sensitivity and reluctantly backed down, the shuddering hilt eased in the Shinigami's palm a moment before the smaller of the two rushed forward into battle.

Byakuya Kuchiki watched the exchange of blows as his younger sister, both adopted and in-law, was easily deflected by the swing of his fukutaichō. Held neatly in his hands were forgotten reports that he had left in the charge of his second in command the night before, and on his tongue, the sharp lecture he would lash his headstrong young charge with for neglecting his administrative duties. As his slate grey eyes flickered from one warrior to the next he watched the bulk that was Renji narrowly dodge the shimmering blade slicing toward his throat by dropping low, his weight supported on the ball of one foot and a palm as he threw out the other foot in an attempt to sweep Rukia's ankle, he was impressively agile for a man of his stature. However, the young woman was much faster, her small figure easily avoiding the limb with a skip to her right and she retaliated with an immediate kidō spell, disregarding the incantation and dampening the power of the blast before launching the crackling red ball of energy at her sparring partner. Surprisingly, Renji countered with his own Shakkahō, despite his lack of efficiency in performing kidō, his blast countered that of Rukia's and exploded on impact, succeeding in reducing Rukia's attack until it held little more hindrance than providing the taller Shinigami with a dust cloud to conceal his movements.

'Impressive, isn't it? How far they have both come in such a short time.'

Byakuya gave no reaction to the voice behind him. No indication that he was surprised to find the other here, on his division's training grounds so early in the morning, or that he'd even heard Jūshirō Ukitake's compliments of the young Shinigami below. Yet, his cold aloofness didn't deter the white haired taichō from settling himself beside the elder of the two Kuchiki siblings and continuing with his commentary of the sparring below. 'It's rather difficult to believe now, isn't it? That young Abarai-fukutaichō had such little skill for kidō after he graduated, and less in his patience and desire to strengthen that weakness. And now, he is a changed man, dutifully embracing that flaw and working to correct it. I believe that credit is yours as his taichō.' Ukitake smiled warmly as his soft eyes observed the wickedly deadly blade of Zabimaru as its segments extended and tore through the dust shield, careening toward the petite female, only to be deflected by a flurrying upstroke of Sode no Shirayuki. 'And then, of course, there is your sister's progression.'

Slowly Byakuya slid his gaze just far enough for him to peer at his uninvited companion without need to incline his head. Ukitake's discussing with him the improvements of the two Shinigami directly associated to him obviously had a purpose, though the purpose of such talk would not be divulged before the man deemed it necessary to do so, so Byakuya would endure the prattle to learn the meaning behind the words.

'She has progressed admirably, despite the many hindrances and complications that she has had to endure these past years. She is intelligent and resourceful. The lower seats in the Thirteenth division find her approachable and considerate to their plights, whereas the higher seats respect her for the sheer determination that she possesses.' Ukitake tilted his head toward the dark haired man and studied the single chilled orb that angled toward him, the gentle taichō then smiled warmly despite knowing Byakuya would never return the expression.

'I sense that, for some reason, you are purposely avoiding your point, Ukitake-sempai.' Byakuya stated flatly, his eyes turning back to the pair below in time to watch as Rukia flashed toward the taller male and skimmed her blade over Renji's bicep where taut flesh split and a fine crimson mist sprayed into the air. ' And yet, if you feel it to be so important to discuss at such an uncivilized hour, I would appreciate it greatly if you would simply state what it is instead of having me endure your rather clumsy attempts at shrewdness.'

The smile on the Thirteenth division's taichō's lips faltered briefly at the clipped tone and flare of impatience in the usually unshakable Shinigami before him, and though the turn of his lips remained, the intensity dimmed. 'Oh, you have my apologies Kuchiki-taichō; I didn't realize that my words were a cause of distress for you.' Another shrill clang rent the air as Sode no Shirayuki wedged her shimmering blade against the pick like fang of Zabimaru and used the joining as leverage to whirl his wielder around in an attempt to unsteady his stance. But the Shinigami, despite his size and strong frame, was surprisingly nimble. Renji skittered easily around in the tight circle and smirked. Laying his palm against the dull edge of Zabimaru, he steadied himself and then threw his weight forwards, taking Rukia unaware as he twisted his wrist, the sword-play melding into a crude form of tug-o-war. Ukitake turned his own head to continue watching the mock battle for a moment before thick, dark lashes slipped over moss coloured orbs and bolstered his nerves before venturing his suggestion to the highly strung noble. 'I believe it is time to consider appointing Rukia a seated officer posit-'

'To what seat do you suggest?'

The lesser noble ignored the fact that the abrupt question had rudely cut across his words. As Byakuya had matured he had grown reluctant to actively participate in conversation, stating only the facts that he deemed necessary and not bothering much with the pleasantries or banter born of camaraderie. But it had not always been so. In his youth, the Kuchiki heir had been as hot tempered and brash as his current fukutaichō, always eager to inject his opinion and observations, whether he had been invited to do so or not however, that was deemed irrelevant by the young Kuchiki. The young Byakuya would enter discussions as eagerly as he participated in combat training, Senbonzakura drawn and battle cry already escaping his lips. And most discussions ended the same way, with him sporting cuts and bruises and a battered ego, before smiles of exhausted satisfaction would touch his lips and he limped reluctantly away, either toward the medical bay or his own barracks. Ukitake felt his lips twitch fondly at the memory, indulging himself briefly before clearing his throat. 'The fourth seat. She is strong, Byakuya, and I would like to hold her in consideration for progression to fukutaichō in due time.'

'That is out of the question.'

Ukitake's chin snapped toward the chilled dismissal, his lids parted and brow furrowed as he frowned, the usually soft energies that enveloped him taking on a hardened edge as his frustration grew. 'You refuse? For what reason?'

Steel cold eyes met his; an almost unnoticeable twitch in Byakuya's cheek rippled the unblemished pale skin as he spoke stiffly before returning his gaze to the fields below. 'Rukia is not yet ready to accept the responsibilities assigned to that role.'

'You give her so little credit; your sister has worked herself long and hard since her graduation. She has faced situations that most of our recruits would never be able to even fathom, let alone overcome and flourish under. And despite all of this, she has not once allowed bitterness to taint her loyalties, in light of the recent betrayals of high seated officers; her promotion to such a position would encourage hope and bolster resolve amongst our troops.' The white haired man closed his eyes and took a deep breath, holding it for a few moments before releasing it quietly in an effort to quell his frustrations before it peaked into anger. 'Tell me then, what qualities does one expect to find in his fukutaichō if not those that she possesses.'

Byakuya raised his head slowly, his long lashes parted slowly to half-mast as he considered the frail man and the warring reiatsu that pulsed around him before simply turning away. His reason needed no explanation, the minute puckering of Byakuya's brow betrayed him only to those who knew him well enough to interpreted such an expression.

Jūshirō sighed heavily, a hand moving up to comb his fingers through the neat bangs that framed his face. 'This is not the same, Byakuya. You can't simply shield her from everything anymore. There is a war coming, people will be wounded, some will be killed, and your keeping her away from the front lines will hinder her more than help. The best you can do for her now is to help her train, prepare her for the dangers that loom ahead.' He saw tension in the younger man's jaw and a wavering control that darkened his stormy eyes. 'I understand that you feel you must honour your vow to your beloved wife, but Rukia is not Hisana. She is not only yours to protect.'

A brief flash of reiatsu whipped around the two men, a flash that carried the subtle hint of anger reflecting the emotion that his features would not as he turned sharply. 'The promise I made to my wife is not the reason for my rejection, Ukitake.' His straining temper caused him to disregard etiquette, the questioning of his actions and his pride frustrated him more than he'd expected. 'I refuse your proposal simply for the lack of experience. Rukia has never held a seated officer's position and therefore, she possesses little to none of the necessary skills one can only learn during active duty. To immediately award her such a high and responsible seat is foolish.'

A rough curse floated from the training field, drawing both men's focus back to the fighting below them, revealing that Renji had managed to knock aside Rukia's Zanpakutou and, in an attempt to keep the sparring fair, tossed his Zabimaru away as well, which now meant that the pair grappled at each other in hand to hand combat. The favor of this battle fell heavily against Rukia, for Renji seemed as though he were built for brawling and his childhood spent as their little family's sole protector had sharpened his instincts to an almost primal level. However, it was painfully clear that he was holding back and in doing so, he left himself vulnerable to Rukia as she threw out her foot and clipped his ankle a sharp blow.

Despite the trustworthiness he felt of his young fukutaichō, Byakuya knew well enough that the younger male was an opportunistic fighter. Rukia had inflicted damage, and now Renji would play act upon the severity of the injury whilst scouting for an opening to launch a counter attack, his desire for self-preservation now enveloping his self-control. He stumbled as he circled the smaller brawler, careful to allow the sharp edge of pain to touch his eyes and tighten his jaw as he integrated a slight drag to his limping. Like a mother bird mimicking a broken wing to lure predators away from her nest, Renji was preying on Rukia's natural instincts, in this case, the instinct to assist a wounded comrade. Ukitake chuckled softly from his seat, amused by the performance of the Sixth Division's second in command and that his own officer was being drawn in by his theatrics. Rukia rose from her stance, worry creasing her brow as she moved quickly to the man's side and placed a palm on his shoulder for stability as she lowered her head to inspect the injury.

A moment later Rukia found that same ankle hooking her knee, hands grabbing her wrists, and herself dropped ungracefully to the ground. Her startled cry drifted over the training compound toward the two taichō but it was lost to her giggles as Renji dropped over her, a boyish grin split his face as he jerked his head backward to avoid a playful swat to his ear, the slender fingers flicking the loosed red tresses that had tumbled free of both the tie and bandanna. While Ukitake found the bantering endearing, Byakuya was finding watching as the street roughened man's broad hands grabbed at wrists and powerful hips and thighs straddled and pinned as he leaned over her far more intimately than what was deemed appropriate for sparring partners to be fairly difficult for a brother, adopted or otherwise, to accept.

Sensing how the higher noble viewed this indignity, Ukitake cleared his throat and allowed his own reiatsu to swell and effectively push the quietly hot tempered man's own flare back under control. Byakuya whipped his chin toward the lesser noble; the tightness in his jaw and the dark flash in his eyes quickly confirmed the assumption that he considered this treatment of Rukia to be a serious blow to his pride and that of his clan. The clan that Rukia's late sister, Hisana, had married into as his own wife and therefore lead him to consider Rukia as a true Kuchiki heir; no matter what his elders argued.

'Calm yourself, Byakuya.' The white haired man crooned softly, as though dealing with a difficult child's tantrums. 'Do not take offense, hakuda is indeed an under practiced yet necessary skill. It is wise that they take this opportunity now to test themselves fully where they are reasonably safe as opposed to finding themselves needing these skills when at the mercy of an enemy.'

Byakuya's guarded eyes hardened. His pride rankled at the elder man's tone toward him. He was the head of the Kuchiki's, one of the highest ranked in Shinigami nobility and keepers of the Seireitei histories, whereas the Ukitake clan were barely influential beyond simple society standings, how dare he scoff at his indignity. 'You inform me of this as though I am a mere child, Ukitake-sempai. You feel that I do not remember my schooling?'

'That is untrue.' Ukitake chided. 'I feel that you are taking too much of this situation to heart. None of my words, nor Abarai-fukutaichō's actions are intended to cause you any distress or wound your honor.'

Cold fury rolled in waves from the older Kuchiki, though his features were as devoid of emotion as ever. It wasn't so much the other taichō's coddling that bothered him, as it was the sight of Renji holding the small woman down in such a manner. His face was hovering close to hers as he stretched his long torso over her petite frame, his hips settling weightily across her thighs, and then there was that smile. That roguishly charming curl of his lips, lop-sided and confident, which had so many of the female officers giggling over the young man as though they were still teenagers catching the eye of their first crush. That same smile he was now directing at his younger sister.

Rukia said something then and Renji sighed, shifting to free the female Shinigami and moving to settle beside her, his lips moving in conversation as he inspected his wounds and bruises with bright laughter. Rukia's head shook from side to side as she reached for his arm, holding her hand over the slice in the man's bicep as a feathery silver glow spread from under her fingers and a soft smile quirked her lips, her midnight eyes held nothing but pure emotion for the brute in her grasp. Renji's usual professional expression had given way to warmth that Byakuya felt had always been beyond his capabilities, his thick finger slid along the young woman's jaw and tucked an errant piece of hair behind her ear, affection obvious in his actions.

And then Renji leaned in, his lips moving over Rukia's while she uttered soft, encouraging sounds and curved herself tightly against the roughened man, pressing herself against his form, almost as though she wished to crawl into his lap.

Byakuya felt a flash of outrage that far out stripped his previous flares of temper. His gut clenched down hard at the images it summoned, Rukia's features twisting in his mind's eye to resemble those of her sister, Hisana, the woman that _he _had loved more than he had ever imagined he would. It felt like a betrayal, a slap to the face delivered of both his lost lover and his fukutaichō. Rage at himself whipped through his senses at that shameful thought but, despite him knowing it not to be his late wife, Byakuya's pride would not accept this. His muscles tensed, preparing to flash down to separate the embracing couple, and perhaps even, separate Renji's head from his shoulders in the process.

A blurred motion behind him barely registered in his usually keen senses. 'Don't do it, Byakuya!' Ukitake burst, his fingers curling around the other taichō's hiori and locking in a surprisingly strong grasp for such a frail looking man. 'I promise you, if you try to stop them, if you try to keep Rukia away from that man, you _will_ lose her.'

Byakuya whirled around, bearing down on the other taichō, his reiatsu erupting and slamming against the frail man's own wall of spiritual power, hastily thrown up to both protect himself and contain their presence. 'This is a matter that holds no concern to the Ukitake fami-'

'But it holds the concern of an individual's taichō, as well as a colleague.' Ukitake cut in sharply, his warm eyes hardening as he held the enraged noble's furious gaze. 'Please, Byakuya, they are still young and they do nothing that is deserving of your wrath. Let us talk about this before you do irreparable damage to your relationship with both your sister as well as your fukutaichō.'

The distress in Byakuya's eyes, the warring of his emotions, was exposed to his peer for only a moment before his nobility training wrenched the mantle of control back into his grasp and hauled the shield of cold indifference back upon his face. Jūshirō slowly released the breath that had hitched painfully in his throat, cautiously recalling his calm reiatsu and settling himself once more, though his voice wobbled as he spoke. 'Did you never suspect?'

A pointed gaze, almost bordering on a glare met Ukitake's soft and open face. 'Clearly I did not.' The response was dull, flat. His surprise still threatened to sweep away his sense of rationality into the roiling torrents of confusion and anger. Lowering his eyes the noble struggled to process both the couple's intimacy as well as his own reaction to the tender moment that he had witnessed.

'Tell me something, Byakuya.' The voice was steady, steadier than it had been only moments before. Ukitake waited until the dark-haired man lifted his eyes to meet his own before continuing. 'Just how much do you know of Rukia's past during the time that you took Hisana as your wife?'

Byakuya blinked sharply, his fingers flexing at the mention of his lost love's name. 'Very little, Hisana knew not what happened after she left her sister that day and Rukia seldom speaks of her experiences before her adoption. Those rare instances where I am able to coax her into such discussions, she is extremely vague and guarded with her participation.'

'I see.' His lips pursed thoughtfully. 'And what of your knowledge of young Abarai, before he became your Fukutaichō?'

The barest crease puckered the flesh between masterfully sculpted brows. 'I fail to see the relevance. Abarai-fukutaichō is hardly the first Rukongai street child to rise through the ranks.'

'You are uninterested in his roots?'

'I am uninterested in irrelevant information.' Byakuya corrected stiffly. 'I know of his training history within the Seireitei, his movement amongst the divisions, which was all the knowledge I required of the young man before agreeing his promotion to fukutaichō of the Sixth.'

'And what of your own curiosity?'

The Kuchiki heir gave him a measured look, unsure of Ukitake's intentions, of where he would be guiding this conversation to, and even less sure that he would appreciate the conclusion. 'I had none. Abarai-fukutaichō was more than qualified for my needs, which satisfied my curiosity.'

'Perhaps that was a little short-sighted on your part.' The white taichō smoothed his hiori at his shoulders, a subconscious movement that indicated his discomfort with such a conversation. 'It is acceptable to be curious of those who you are expected to work so closely with. It builds strong bonds, something a commander needs in order to run a successful division.'

'That, Ukitake-taichō, is where your opinion and mine differ vastly.' Byakuya stated, his eyes flickered, almost as though he wished to glance toward the couple on the field and yet, he was uncomfortable with what he might witness. 'Curiosity serves as little more than gossip fodder. And my interest for gossip is non-existent as you are well aware.'

'I am.' Ukitake agreed as he shifted again. 'Can I ask you? When Rukia returned to you after that incident with Shiba-fukutaichō that resulted in his death, how did she behave?'

Byakuya blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic. 'She was understandably distressed. However, she did not seek counsel nor guidance from myself, so I did not feel it necessary to pursue. I felt it to be best that she should grieve in her own manner.'

'Rukia was deeply afflicted by Shiba-fukutaichō's death.' Ukitake informed his colleague. 'I watched her as she curled up farther inside herself with each passing day. I noticed how thin she had grown, and how her training suffered, I even noticed that fear of abandonment had tainted her right to the scent of her reiatsu. She was so lost and alone, so completely vulnerable and she had no idea how she should grieve.' A quick and pointed glance pierced the younger noble with a hardened edge, distressed with the obvious lack of communication between the two siblings. Though it was understandable, Rukia was a very private individual and Byakuya was never inclined to pry.

'I grew concerned and approached her. She refused to admit that she was struggling with her grief,' he huffed out a humorless laugh. 'That damn Kuchiki pride, I imagine. But eventually she approached me, and so we talked. We talked about anything, anything to distract her from feeling as though hopelessness was all she had left to hold onto. She told me of her childhood, of the only friend she had. She spoke of a young boy who had taken her hand when she had needed someone the most. How, even though every day was a struggle, he made it worth fighting through, if only for the knowledge that she would once again fall asleep beside him, protected and cared for. As I learned more of this mysterious boy from her youth, I saw a flicker of light return to her eyes, a spark of the same Rukia Kuchiki that I had enrolled into my division. This boy that she spoke of, he was awakening her emotions once more, and so I asked more of him. She smiled fondly and spoke of how the boy was stubborn, rude, and explosive. Nothing was ever simple, everything was exciting and dramatic to him and she had not been able to keep herself from being swept along in his energetic activities. She told me how frightened he had been for her when she was struck with Rukon Fever and how it had been the very first and only time that she had ever seen him cry. The only time that she had ever seen her fears of loneliness and abandonment reflected in the eyes of one that she cared for, the first time that she realized just how much he needed her. She struggled to admit to me how much that it meant to her, the knowledge that her existence mattered. Mattered so much so, that he had frantically sought out medicine for her, that he had sat up each night, boiling water to purify it before allowing her to drink. Exhausting himself until he would flop over her lap finally and sleep, fists curled tightly around her yukata, clinging to her desperately. That, on the nights that he would settle before exhaustion took hold, he would curl up with her and use his own warmth to soothe her when the chills became so terrible that she trembled and sobbed. She told me that, when everyone else in their little group died, that same boy was always there. His hand always held out to her.'

Ukitake paused and swallowed thickly, recounting his discussion with Rukia pained him more than he'd expected. 'When I asked her more about the boy, where he was now, I will admit that I was surprised when her face fell and that she confirmed that he was here in the Seireitei. When I asked for his name so that I could send for him and he could comfort her, I was confused that she shook her head instead of revealing his name. She told me that he no longer held his hand out to her, that he had used that same hand to pass her into those of a man who could give her what he could not. Passed to someone who could give her everything that she would need to secure her a successful life. What she needed, but not what she wanted.'

The dark haired man felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. He did not like where this conversation was leading. And to further twist his knot of discomfort, he found himself to be pained that Rukia had never talked so openly with him as she did her taichō.

'She finally relented; she finally told me the boy's name, after so many failed attempts to coax the information from her.' Ukitake lifted his eyes and fixed them on Byakuya's. 'That boy, he was Renji Abarai.'

Byakuya felt his heart plummet; felt pain swell inside him as though he'd taken a fist to the gut. His fukutaichō had grown up with Rukia, had protected her and cared about her long before he strode into her life to play her hero, a role that he had, thus far, failed to fulfil.

'That man meant everything to Rukia as a child. If you try to keep them apart, now that they are finally reunited, you will lose her affections for you. And as for Abarai, you will lose his respect and loyalty.' A hand gently cupped Byakuya's shoulder as the pale man leaned to the noble's ear. 'Is your pride so important that it's worth destroying a bond such as theirs? Is it worth hurting that woman, a woman that so many are willing to risk their lives for? Is it worth betraying your promise to your beloved Hisana, to protect her little sister?' He pulled back to look the younger noble in the eye, a hardened edge creeping into his voice. 'Is it not time that you loosened your hold on Rukia's hand and perhaps, return her back to Abarai's care? He put his faith in you to take care of her when he could not. Prove to him now, your faith in his strength and devotion to her and take a step back. You will always be connected to her, no-one can take that from you. You will always be her brother Byakuya, but brothers are not the only men sisters require in their lives. Share her now, with him.'

Ukitake moved around his comrade, fingers sliding from his shoulder as he did so. His hiori flapping as he stepped purposefully toward the gate that would lead him away from the training grounds of Division Six and back into the alleys of the Seireitei, to those same alleys that would carry him toward his own divisions section. Time had escaped them during their discussions and he had paperwork to prepare for Rukia Kuchiki's eventual promotion.

As the white taichō left, Byakuya turned his attentions back to the couple below. They had, thankfully, parted their kiss and were on their feet once more, gathering their Zanpakutou and brushing dirt from their shihakusho. Pausing, but only for a moment, as Renji skimmed his fingers along her jaw once more, a frown tugging his tattooed brow over his eyes as he gingerly inspected a flourishing bruise that marked her porcelain skin, before reaching to her hair and plucking a twig tangled in her raven tresses. They were talking now, their voices little more than wordless noise swirling on the breeze.

Byakuya pressed the heel of his palm to his temple, he had been presented with a vast quantity of new information to process and he could feel a migraine stirring behind his eyes. Perhaps Ukitake–taichō was correct, perhaps now was the time to entrust his fukutaichō with the only woman, aside from his wife, who had ever held his heart in her hand. Their relationship had not always been a simple one, filled with torn loyalties and misunderstandings, but those flaws had only served to strengthen their bond as adopted siblings. But now, could he really allow Renji to step forward and once more become the prominent male figure in Rukia's life as she seemed to desire? He wasn't sure.

Turning on his heel, Byakuya Kuchiki slid noiselessly into the structure behind him and headed toward his office. He would consider this new development seriously, but not right now, he did, after all, still have a division to run and forgotten reports to complete.

* * *

_**Unless I grip the sword, I cannot protect you. While gripping the sword, I cannot embrace you~ Bleach- Tite Kubo**_

And that is the first chapter of the second of my 'Serenity' series begun. For those who are reading the series I send you hugs cos you are awesome.

Please hit the little review button, I like reading your views on my stories; I like and appreciate constructive criticism as well. I am not much of a devoted author, my fanfictions are basically a way to empty the words that eddy around my brain and, on occasion, slip out when I wish they wouldn't.

I look forward to hearing your views.

~Voicey.


	2. Chapter 2 Fractured Illusions

**Fractured Serenity.**

**Author's Note:**

Again a looooong wait. Sorry guys. But I kinda struggled some with this. I wasn't sure just how to start it. So I settled with a kind of running theme in the 'Serenity' series, with a little smut.

Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:- **I do not own, nor to I make any claims to, Bleach and/or its characters and storyline. I am simply a late-to-the-party fan who enjoys fanfiction, both reading it and writing it. The only profit I make from this is the knowledge that I may, perhaps, encourage others to venture more into the Bleach Universe by helping to keep the fandom alive alongside the thousands of other fans.

* * *

**Fractured Illusions:**

Renji's lips moved higher, nose brushing the sensitive and fleshy earlobe as he nuzzled and roamed her flesh and inhaled her scent, soft and feminine, searching for that one spot that would have her voice keening with desire, whimpering desperately for him. Rukia squirmed when calloused fingers slid around her neck, cradling the base of her skull in one palm as she curved and bared her throat to a stinging rain of his soft kisses and sharp teeth, her own fingers twisted ribbons of crimson, tugging in encouragement as they spilled from the tight ponytail and cascaded around the man's shoulders. Renji's voice sighed, heated breath whooshing over her hyper sensitive flesh as he suckled a path over the elegant throat, sliding his broad tongue over the hollow dip at the head of her sternum. His other hand twisted and tugged at her obi, blunt nails raking over the knot eagerly, hips already falling into a slow rhythm of shallow upward thrusts, and a firmness of flesh adamantly making itself known to her.

Rukia shifted her own hips, searching for comfort as he nudged at the curve of her buttocks with his slow movements, rising onto her knees and shuffling an inch or two further down his slightly parted thighs. The hand on the fabric knotted about her waist tensed, fingers curling stubbornly and tugging, trying to once again position her awkwardly over his straining organ, as a rumble of voice complained against her throat. 'I'm not going anywhere.' She purred thickly, pressing her slender fingers to Renji's flattened belly in reassurance, drifting her touch in slow circles toward the centre point of his pelvis as she settled weightily across his thighs, pleased with where she had trapped him, her knees gripping high on his hips. 'See?'

He hummed in agreement, seemingly satisfied that she had no intention of retreating fully from him and abandoning their embrace, the red headed Shinigami resumed his careful mouthing along her soft edges, lapping at her jaw as one hand tangled itself deeply in her mass of ebony silk, the other finally working the knot loose. Renji skimmed his lips higher, nipping at unblemished skin and tugging at her lower lip as he disentangled his fingers and traced them down her neck and along her collar, sweeping a path between her still covered breasts, to meet with its brethren as it slid fabric free of its ties with a breathy whisper. Rukia gasped, her spine curving forwards as chilled air rolled over newly bared skin, pressing her own belly to Renji's when fingers slid into her kosode and up under the back of the white shitagi and panting against his quirking lips at the sudden heated shivers that raced her flesh at his touch.

As quickly as their kiss had been broken, it was resumed with Rukia's head bowing to his, mouth darting in and nimble tongue sliding over the seam of Renji's lips, eliciting a lust fuelled growl of encouragement from the man's throat. Control having been willingly surrendered and firmly handed over to the young woman emboldened her and Rukia pressed her hips down against the heated firmness cradled between Renji's thighs, protected and restrained still by the layers of his uniform. The strangled groan that caught in his throat made her chuckle wickedly and, as she pulled back to observe his shuttered and blissful gaze, the slow burn of lust glowing deep within ruby hued orbs spurred her own growing need.

'Well, don't you look positively content?' She taunted, leaning her head to his and stealing a chaste touch from his parted lips, retreating and pressing his shoulders down before he could secure his mouth firmly to hers and steal back her dominance over him. 'I'm beginning to think that you like being caught under me, fukutaichō-dono.' She drew out the vowels in a throaty drawl and rolled her hips slowly in time to the elongated word.

Renji arched and bit back an embarrassingly needy whine, his hands dropping to Rukia's hips and holding her still. 'Keep teasin' me woman, an' we'll see jus' _who _enjoys bein' caught under th' other more.' He dug his elbows down on the hastily unrolled futon and nuzzled her throat again, teeth and tongue moving along her collar with sharp bites and soothing sweeps. 'An' I _know _ya like the feelin' of bein' under me.'

'Is that so, Abarai-fukutaicho?' She chuckled throatily when his humming growl vibrated against her skin and his reiatsu flared strongly around them. It was a pleasant and unexpected surprise that her use of his last name made him tremble with want. Neither could explain it, but Rukia took great pleasure in slipping its use into all kinds of daily conversations,. Usually while she accompanied Byakuya to his barracks as she did most mornings before retreating to her own, teasing Renji cruelly if for little else but the thrill of watching his eyes darken with lust for her, all the while her honourable brother droned his instructions to an inattentive lieutenant. 'Is that what you think? Well, I'm certain Nii-sama would appreciate knowledge of your being so-' she bore her weight down again and caught her tongue tip between her sharp little teeth, relishing in the bark of surprise that burst over Renji's lips. '_attentive_ to my well-being.'

'Yeah. I'm so sure o' that.' Renji snorted, swallowing hard as heat radiated from the juncture nestled between her thighs and swathed over the painfully hard extension of his own form. A juncture that was welcoming, inviting and tantalizingly hidden just out of his reach for the moment. Finally the sash yielded to his frustrated persistence and he peeled back the folds of fabric, sliding and bunching down her arms before he tossed them unceremoniously to the floor. He quickly tore his own obi loose and shucked his torso free, his larger kosode pooling around his waist. 'An' jus' when d'ya expect me to hear yer beloved '_Nii-sama_' thank me for this? Before or after he slices me in ta bite sized lil' chunks?' His wide fingers curled her ankles and he pressed up sharply, lips widening into a proud grin when Rukia gasped and clung to his shoulders more tightly. 'Should I be expectin' a card in th' mail, or d'ya reckon he'll jus' announce 'is resignation there 'n then an' hand over Sixth t' me?'

With his sash and upper garments shed, Rukia's nimble fingers skipped down his long, firm chest unopposed. Skimming her fingertips over the ridges of toned and battle-hardened abdominal muscles, Rukia lightly traced the symmetrical, sharp lines of his intricate tattoos, and then slipped beneath the loose waist of his hakama, into the twist of his fundoshi. Excitement welled in her belly when Renji's hips lifted, her nails rasping over the thatch of short hair that surrounded his rigid and warm flesh, silken to her touch and throbbing to the beat of his heart. Renji's head fell forwards then, brow resting limply on her breast, and fingers stilled their feathered caresses of her calves. His breathing grew shallow and ragged when she shifted her wrist, loosening the expertly twisted fabric enough for her to wrap her hand around him and give a single slow pump.

'Ruuuu…kia.' His usually steady voice fractured in a high whine and he tilted his head to peer up at her through barely parted lashes. 'Please. Yer killin' me 'ere.'

Rukia's hand stilled, wrapped around his twitching organ. 'You want me to stop?'

A single shake of his head. 'No.'

'So, you want me to keep going?'

Another shake. 'No.'

She laughed quietly. 'Well, what _do _you want?'

Renji rolled his head until his cheek was nestled between her delicate mounds. 'You.' He sighed, eyes shuttering. 'I jus' want you.'

* * *

Byakuya Kuchiki frowned down at the rice paper that lay beneath his fingers, his brow furrowed without marring his alabaster skin as he struggled to focus on the beautifully drawn kanji, struggled to understand what he himself had scripted. The fude, held elegantly between slender finger tips, was carefully lowered to rest upon the lip of the suzuri that bore the Kuchiki family crest as he conceded and relinquished his attempts at making sense of the figures and characters that marked the crisp sheet. Allowing himself but a moment, Byakuya's eyes shuttered and he loosed a frustrated breath, fingers moving through the loose tresses, unbound from his kenseikan.

Byakuya was troubled. The noble rarely found himself in a situation such as this, to be so perturbed by his distrust of another's intent, and he without means or guidance available to him to banish his feelings of frustration. To be the head of the Kuchiki family marked him as a man of impeccable control, a quality in which he prided himself upon. He had always believed himself to be more than capable to perform his duties with refinement and poise regardless of any hindrance or complication; he was a man, strong enough in character, to separate personal issues from those of business. But, to now discover himself floundering when faced with that very instance, he suddenly felt woefully inadequate to admit that it unnerved him. To feel that his mind, usually so calm and serene and unwavering in its certainty, had reduced itself into a massively broiling mess of thoughts and scenarios, of which were of a questionable content and that he rather wished would abandon him and let him be, made him uncomfortable.

A discomfort that had only magnified since the presence of his second in command had made itself known to him, weaving through the barracks and tickling the very edges of his own powerful reiatsu as though taunting him. Byakuya couldn't help but feel startled as the door was gently slid open; the elder Kuchiki sibling mentally cursed these foreign notions as he swept a pointedly bitter glare under the pretence of a seemingly neutral expression as the street roughened male, his supposedly trusted lieutenant, slunk into the office.

It was a petty notion for Byakuya to suddenly feel as though he had been betrayed by a man who had demonstrated naught but un-wavering loyalty to him as well as the division for decades. True, Renji had once taken his blade up against him, defied his orders and even wounded him albeit minor, but it had been with noble intent as the heart. Renji had always, prior and since that one event, performed his duties and obeyed orders with pride. Be they the more favoured, physical duties as heading the sword drills, or the more tedious administrative kind that the active young man loathed. It was not fair, nor justified, for Byakuya to dredge up old, and somewhat bitter, past events as reason for his tantrum. But, as of this moment, Byakuya rather enjoyed the luxury of, for once surrendering and feeling that pettiness.

Renji had refused to look him in the eye as he entered the room. His ear tips appeared slightly reddened, somewhat heated and his movements were cautious, guarded and obviously deliberate as he moved toward the second desk in the room. Very much alike to those of a stray, half-wild dog who still seemed bewildered at finding himself domesticated and allowed inside his master's home, and was now making a conscious effort to remain in said master's good graces despite knowing that he had done wrong.

The youth slipped in his place without a word but offered a respectful nod and then settled behind his desk, shifting through his assigned papers relatively noiselessly. That in itself was behaviour strange enough to tighten the knot of conflicted emotion in Byakuya's gut. Renji was not known for a docile nature, he was brash and passionate and, perhaps a little too rough around the edges, a polar opposite of the figure now pouring himself over his current report without so much as a word of complaint. His chin cupped in one palm as his tattooed brows tugged low over red amber eyes that darted the same path in which his brutish hand dragged a pen of split bamboo. The tip of his tongue showed through his parted lips, teeth clenched over it in concentration as he puzzled out a particularly difficult sentence.

It was then, that Byakuya decided Renji was hiding something from him, and that decision acted as little more than fodder, feeding his feelings of petty resentment. Taking up his fude once more, the Kuchiki forced himself to at least attempt his stack of paperwork with some degree of detachment. His own soft hand moved with practiced grace over his share of documents, but his eyes were not guiding his script. No, they were analysing the oblivious man sitting across from him as he scrutinized with the unfairness of a father defending his daughter rather than that of a brother protecting his sister, adopted or otherwise.

* * *

Across the divisions, Shinigami worked on their battle techniques. Strengthening their bodies and swords, training the new recruits that now swelled their ranks, and preparing themselves to rally together, to face down a former ally and offer up their very lives in order to defend their world. The usually quiet training grounds that sat, often empty, behind the barracks of division thirteen was no exception.

'Shakkahō!'

The ball of red flame, the condensed burst of spiritual energy, crackled wildly as it tore free from the palm in which it had formed. Flashing ahead and into the path of the destructive kido, Rukia pivoted around to face the sphere. Her fingers wrapped firmly around Sode no Shirayuki's hilt as she drew her Zanpakutou, her partner and, in one fluid movement, stepped into a swing that clove the Hadō spell in two. The slice disrupted the stability of the blast but did not destroy it; one half careened harmlessly into the earth and caused little more damage than a geyser of dried earth to rocket skyward, whereas the other raced toward a figure that was slowly making its way onto the practice field.

Rukia opened her mouth to simply call out a warning, thinking the figure to be one of the new recruits bumbling their way around the admittedly confusing layout of division thirteen's barracks. And it only took an instant for the young Kuchiki to sense her mistake, recognizing the warm and comforting feel of her beloved captain's spiritual energy as the frail man pointedly strolled toward her, brazenly ignoring the unstable half blast of kido that rushed him.

'Taichō!' Her voice splintered with desperate warning, had barley wrenched from her chest before Rukia's warrior's instinct forced her to react. Fearing for her superior's safety, her body automatically initiated a series of shun-po, bringing her small frame alongside the fluctuating semi-sphere of power. Eyes narrowing with determination she pushed herself on, the tip of Shirayuki barely piercing the earth as she moved, her cry ringing over the rapidly shortening distance between her and her captain. 'Tsugi no mai…'

Bitter coldness stirred up from each barely there mark, chilling the moisture particles in the air and forming tiny crystals of ice that swarmed, trailing behind the young woman like a delicate diamond dust shadow that danced and curled coyly at her heels. Rukia skidded slightly as she ended her burst of speed before Jūshirō, her feet planted wide in a battle stance and her sword arm crossed diagonally over her chest. 'Hakuren!' She rose herself onto her toes and turned then, dipping her sword tip low as she directed the swell of sub-zero air toward the kido in a sweeping tidal wave that instantly solidified into a sheet of glittering ice. Drawing herself into a more relaxed stance, Rukia released Shirayuki's Shikai form and sheathed her resting blade at her hip just as the air crackled with the sound of shifting ice and the frozen wave shattered, destroying the Shakkahō blast along with itself.

'Very impressive, Rukia-chan.'

The young noble smiled weakly. 'Your praise is misplaced in me, Ukitake-taichō. I should have been more aware of my surroundings. I know better than to trial a new technique with new recruits still learning the routes of the barracks. My deepest apologies, Sir.' She bowed her head stiffly.

'Nonsense.' Ukitake said warmly, his gentle hand cupping her shoulder, his thumb brushing against the prominent juts of her collar. 'The fault lies with me. I sensed you out here and wished to observe.' He swept his mossy gaze over the residual ice shell that, although it was thawing in the strong sunlight, still coated almost the entirety of the training grounds. 'This is an interesting technique. I had no idea that your Hakuren could be initiated when moving, most useful especially with you being as swift as you are.'

Rukia felt her cheeks flush at the gentle man's words, and she desperately tried to suppress the urge to squirm like a delighted puppy. 'Honestly, I was unaware myself. Until this moment, I have never attempted such a manoeuvre. Even Shirayuki could not be certain of our success.' She cast a fond glance to her Soul Cutter and ran her fingers over the white ribboned hilt. 'But she was willing and offered her whole strength to the attempt, I am very fortunate, to have such a willing and resourceful partner.'

The pale captain nodded. His thoughts returning to his conversation with the elder Kuchiki from the morning and his disapproval of awarding a seated officer's position to the warrior standing before him. Rukia was humble and resourceful herself. She knew her limitations, embraced them even, but that had never discouraged her from trying to better herself. The fruition of this rather poignant fact had been demonstrated only moments ago. He supressed the flare of disappointment and returned his warm smile to his subordinate. 'As am I. Not every Shinigami bonds so tightly with their Zanpakutou with the same ease. ' He remembered his own tentative progress as a young officer, how Sogyo no Kotowari had mercilessly fought against him and his wishes to achieve their Shikai form. The spirits had once doubted his strength to wield even one of his twin blades, let alone both. But when their connection had finally been established and a young Jūshirō won the trust of his partners, the death god and soul cutter flourished.

Carefully the captain idly traced his slender fingertips over their hilt at his side, his lashes slipping down as he sought out the comforting dual presence of his blades that warmed him to his core and gave serenity to his often turbulent thoughts. _:Sogyo no Kotowari,: _he reached for the spirits with the internal voice a Shinigami reserved only for their own Zanpakutou. _:I know that we have suffered some disheartening times, my old friend, but I need your strength now. This young woman, I feel her to be the fukutaichō that our division requires. A strength to swell from my weakness. And a light to shine through our darkest moments But, I need to know that you agree with what I believe.:_

The hilt beneath his fingers trembled as the resonating echo of two genderless voices that shared the blade, twistied over and curled around each other, blending until he felt the words thrummed from all corners of his mind and body rather than hearing them whispered from his heart until he all but felt two small hands grasp his own as it held their hilt. _::You need only to ask it of us and our strength is yours.:: _

Fingers curling around the katana and with Sogyo no Kotowari slipping easily from their sheath, Ukitake's lids parted and he focused firmly on Rukia's startled face.

'Sir?'

'I believe that it is time we trained a little more seriously.' The usually frail man smiled warmly and a determined glint hardened his eyes. Laying both hands on the katana's hilt Jūshirō wordlessly called to his blades. 'Do you not agree, Rukia-chan?'

Rukia swallowed hard and shifted her stance, bracing against the stifling, single pulse of captain level reiatsu as Ukitake's hands moved apart, separating the dual Zanpakutou. Her fingers shook as she drew Sode no Shirayuki and held her resting form before her.

_::Do not fear him, Rukia.:: _Shirayuki's voice breezed through her heart, even as her chest tightened. _::You know this man. You trust him. As you know and trust Zabimaru's partner. If you fear your comrades, you will not trust in their resolve and both you and they shall be lost when battle comes.::_

_:I understand. Truly I do.: _Rukia's own inner voice eddied through her, though it quaked with apprehension when she saw her captain, her opponent slide his rear foot further back and crouched low, one blade held over his head the other drawn against his belly. Both wickedly sharp and tapered points angled toward her body, a body that she now realized to be frighteningly soft and yielding. _:But that is Sogyo no Kotowari, I have never battled with two enemy blades.:_

A sigh stirred through her. _::And you had never battled an extending Zanpakutou with the ability of Bankai before, yet you threw yourself into sparring with that man::_

_:That's different.:_

_::How so?::_

Rukia mentally bit her lip. Her Soul Cutter was right. How was sparring with Renji for the first time so different from sparring with Ukitake-taichō now? _:I don't know Taichō's techniques. I don't know his weaknesses.:_

_::And did you know Abarai's? After decades apart, did you even know what his Zanpakutou's name was?::_

_:No. But, I know Renji better than anyone. That isn't fair!:_

Shirayuki ignored the complaint; she needed Rukia to believe in herself as she did. _::Is that what makes battle more frightening? To not know of your enemy's capabilities? Have you never considered then, that the lack of knowing actually releases your limitations? The lack of knowing means that you do not know if you can defeat your opponent, but they also do not know if they can defeat you. It is a double edged blade that toes the line of fear and confidence:: _Her voice softened then as she felt Rukia consider her words. _::Has he ever told you, the fear that he felt when he faced your brother, to know that he was vastly under-experienced and ill-prepared?::_

Rukia's fingers curled tighter around the white pommel in her grasp as she called out with a shaky breath. 'Dance, Sode no Shirayuki!'

_::Consider this now. The limit of your abilities lies only with you. If you begin to doubt your strength, you grow weaker. If you feel yourself to be injured, the pain is sharper. But if you do not think, and you do not know, what is there to hinder you?::_

Rukia's lips quirked into a thin line, Shirayuki's words sinking in. _:There is nothing.:_

The shimmering white blade sang her approval as she raced up to block a lunge from one of the Kotowari twins. The second blade swept toward Rukia's unprotected side, already crowing its triumph as steel sliced through the air. Ukitake followed after his still moving sword, stepping in close and twisting. Rukia's eyes widened in surprise, her mind instantly racing for something to block him, a way for her to dodge, but her brain offered her nothing but panic.

_::Do not think!:: _Shirayuki's voice called. Rukia's own panic seeped into the spirit's words like poison. _::It has not cut you yet and you do not know if it shall!::_

She dropped then. Rukia let her knees crumple beneath her, catching herself in a low squat on her hands as Kotowari's second blade whistled overhead, slicing only silken strands of black as her hair swept upwards on the wind. Now she saw several openings that had been shielded from her while her captain was rushing toward her. His back and side were unprotected, his bent knee that offered stability to his stance, now horribly vulnerable and at her mercy. Rukia bolted to her feet, her opportunity to attack quickly dwindling as Jūshirō began to slow in his twist. Her foot snapped out, long buried instincts from her childhood in Inuzuri clawing through her senses, catching him hard on the back of his knee and sending him sprawling to the ground, Sogyo no Kotowari clattering harmlessly as they skittered from his fingers.

Rukia felt pride swell within her chest an instant before shame flooded through her as her brain processed the situation. Sheathing her katana, the young Kuchiki dropped to her superior's side. 'Ukitake-taichō!' She cried, reaching out her hands as she cautiously touched the man's shaking shoulders. 'Ukitake-taichō, are you alright? I apologize, I should not have-'

But Jūshirō quaking shoulders indicated his laughter and not a sudden bout of coughing. Lifting himself enough to tuck his hips beneath himself, the white captain brushed down his hiori before working his fingers together. 'That was quite impressive Rukia.' He smiled up into her worried face, reading her incredulous expression only made the man laugh harder. 'Oh come now, Rukia. You have caused me no injury. Except, perhaps, for a shallow wound to my pride. I did not expect for you to suddenly vanish beneath Kotowari like that. In fact I did not expect that you would defend yourself at all, you seemed to be warring with yourself before we began. '

Rukia flushed, moving to collect Sogyo no Kotowari from their sprawled position a few feet to her side. 'I, um… I was having a few difficulties accepting your sudden rush. I did not expect you to draw your sword on me.' She fixed a pointed look at the man. 'Shirayuki snapped me out of my freeze with a few choice words amongst a great deal of wisdom. She wishes for me to grow more powerful, and to do so I need to accept a few truths that I was not aware of. Like her belief in my strength.'

'I see, you have doubted yourself for far too long, I wager.' The man accepted his Zanpakutou from the small hands that held the blades out as the dark head nodded wordlessly. 'And Shirayuki, growing more powerful herself, decided it was time that you realized your progress.' Jūshirō continued, his gaze falling to the blade held in his young officers grasp. 'To slice through a Hadō based kido, especially that of an individual as accomplished as yourself, with such ease and precision, without disrupting the elemental bonds that bind it shows a great increase in power.' He raised his eyes then, a mischievous glimmer sparkled deep in their murky colour, making the man appear less tired and more of the powerful warrior that she knew him to be, youthful his strength and skill. 'Your sparring with Zabimaru is beginning to show its benefits to you now.'

Rukia's shoulders snapped back as surprise jolted her small frame, midnight eyes widening as she stammered awkwardly. 'I… I...' Drawing a deep breath to settle her nerves she swept a shield of indifference over her face and hardened her gaze. 'I apologize, Ukitake-taichō, but you must be mistaken. I do not spar with Abarai-fukutaichō, my brother would never allow it, he would deem it to be improper to duel with his subordinate.'

'Perhaps I was mistaken.' Jūshirō forced the smile to fall from his lips, though his mind chortled at the indignity the younger Kuchiki feigned. Rukia's ears were scarlet with embarrassment and she lowered her gaze that was, without a doubt, darting in search of an escape route for her to flee. Carefully the man slid his fingers through his silver strands before speaking his next words deliberately. 'And, perhaps, I am mistaken in believing that it is the remnants of Abarai-fukutaichō's reiatsu that I can feel, still tainting the edges of your own.'

Rukia's cheeks burned as her chin snapped up. A wordless challenge darkened her eyes as she assumed the cold indifference that one was so accustomed to when speaking with one of Kuchiki heritage, though on such a delicate woman, it seemed quite out of place. Had she not been so frightened of discovery she would never have dreamed of pinning her darkened glare, never dreamed to speak to her superior in such a tone. Rukia was respectful and polite to a fault, almost as though she were always so aware that her position in either her squad or noble life, were little more than circumstance and could easily be stripped away from her. But fear of discovery bolstered her defiance and preservation of her own dignity, as well as Renji's, and gave an insolent edge to her voice. Her words, as cold and bitter as ice, snapped from her lips. 'With all due respect, Ukitake-taichō-'

The quiet and pale captain, quite unperturbed by the young woman's sudden flare of temper, raised a palm and silenced her inevitable tantrum that loomed without a word. 'You do not need to hide this from me, Rukia.' He crooned softly. Employing the same tone that had so often calmed and quelled the fluctuating tempers of a young Byakuya, a voice he had used even this morning when said Kuchiki had tensed and prepared to act upon his intent of physically ripping apart the two young lovers from their embrace as well as to destroy his fukutaichō. Gentle and open but underlain with the unmistakable authority of a man who knew his role within his life as a guide and mentor to those less experienced and lost souls as both Shinigami as well as simple beings. 'It is plain for those, with eyes, in which to see. You care a great deal for that man, as he does you. You display your affection for him so easily and you are not wrong to do so, love is a precious and fragile thing, one that all souls feel and surrender to. But perhaps, you should consider taking up practices here rather than on the fields of your brother's division. It would make for less damning situations should the two of you share another tender moment.'

Rukia's face visibly paled as the meaning behind the man's words chased away her flare of temper, and her knees wobbled beneath her as though unable to support her slight weight any longer at the implications. A tender moment shared on her brothers practice fields, with his most trusted officer. Sinking carefully to the grass and with more grace than anyone should possess when faced with such a revelation, she covered her mouth with her palm as it hung open in a silent _'oh' _and comprehension flooded her startled eyes. 'Nii-sama..? Did Nii-sama,' she swallowed thickly. 'Did he… Was he with you?'

Ukitake gave a flat smile and suddenly Rukia didn't need to hear his words, her world had dropped out from beneath her as her own captain confirmed her fears.

'Yes, Rukia. Byakuya knows.'

* * *

**Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is growing up. ~ James A. Baldwin**

No full blown smut yet. I'm keeping that for now... Oh dear, the plot thickens.

Read and review. ~Voice


	3. Chapter 3

**Fractured Serenity.**

**Author's Note:**

… Um, yeah. Long, long, LONG wait this time I know. Sorry guys. But in my defense, long ass chapter, over 7,000 words and that's the chapter body, not the author's note and disclaimer. So, yay.

**Disclaimer:- **I do not own, nor to I make any claims to, Bleach and/or its characters and storyline. I am simply a late-to-the-party fan who enjoys fanfiction, both reading it and writing it. The only profit I make from this is the knowledge that I may, perhaps, encourage others to venture more into the Bleach Universe by helping to keep the fandom alive alongside the thousands of other fans.

* * *

**Chapter:3.**

Rukia visibly paled and her knees wobbled beneath her as though unable to support her slight weight any longer, she covered her mouth with her palm as her belly churned with nausea. 'Nii-sama..? Did Nii-sama,' she swallowed thickly, her wide, midnight eyes silently pleading her captain to not look at her the way he was. Pleading that the fog of emotion in his eye was simple poorly placed humor, a joke at her expense, and hopeful that the grim purse of his lips to be an indication that she had caught him out in his prank.

'I'm sorry, Rukia.' Her gentle captain smiled. It was a weak offering, flimsy and strained, she could see it, reflected in his eyes, her own fears broiling in the murky depths. 'Your brother knows.' A pause, a silence, and then a soft admittance that stole the breath she hadn't realized caught in her throat. 'Both he and I know.'

Heat licked her veins as blood thrummed through her temple and ice slammed into her belly, cold and numbing, as comprehension flooded her startled eyes. Her knees no longer wobbled, instead they simply buckled and Rukia felt the ground rushing toward her as her body pitched forwards. Shirayuki's startled voice swelled within her mind, crying out in distress at the turmoil that suddenly coursed her mistress's energies. Rukia felt no doubt that the words, despite startled, were of comfort and courage that the spirit so often lavished upon her wielder. Though her support was usually greatly appreciated, the adoptive noble was currently unable to decipher the words into a dialect that she could understand; her surprise and fear seemed to have shorted her intelligence at that moment.

_A tender moment shared on her brothers practice field. _

With Byakuya's most trusted officer. Needles of pain jolted through her shoulders and stinging prickles bit into her palms as she instinctively threw out her hands to cushion her fall. From the edge of her vision, she could see Ukitake-taichō rush to her, falling to his knees at her side, his hands moving to steady her as she knelt there, frozen. Bile rose in her throat and Rukia swallowed quickly, forcing the bitter rush back as her mind churned and she tucked her limbs beneath herself, curling into a tiny ball. Byakuya was a man of pride, and she knew that for him to witness an event such as the intimacy that she and Renji had shared, he would feel as an act of disrespect toward him as the Head of the Kuchiki House. He would view her role in the clinch as dishonorable, for she was a woman of nobility fraternizing with a lower class soldier; it was a disgrace upon their name, upon their strict expectations of conduct. She had escaped disgrace before, but only by the skin of her teeth, a technicality had graced her with a pardon for her wrongful execution sentence. But this, she had known perfectly well that she had been openly flirting with discovery, and now that she had been caught she chilled with fear. There seemed no escaping the consequences this time.

_:Rukia, you must calm down. You must not allow yourself to retreat inside your darkest memories once more. You must not close your heart to those who wish to help, or your mind from those whose own are clear for reasoning.:_ Shirayuki's voice cried, strain and exhaustion edging the words as she fought to be heard over the howl of instinctual panic flaring from her young mistress's heart. _:Please listen to me! Do not allow yourself to return to that place where you once lost your resol-: _Another mournful howl and Shirayuki's pleas faded. The spirit wasn't strong enough to reach Rukia through her panic… No. Shirayuki was strong enough; it was that Rukia was not allowing her to. Her instinctual reaction, despite the pleas of her soul partner, was to push away the comforting presences of those around her, those of whom she sought courage from. Push away those who could hurt her by making her lower her guard to them, by encouraging her to trust them. Protect herself from those who cared for her, they would only make her vulnerable. She had done the very same thing to Renji all those years ago, pushed him away and closed her heart off from him for decades and let him suffer as she felt he'd done her.

Guilt whipped in her chest at that thought. Wrenching a painful dry sob from her throat as she felt Shirayuki's anxiety spike with her increasing sense of guilt as it threatened to drown her in its torrents. Shame took a strangle hold, shame of the petty treatment that, by her own hands, she had inflicted upon the man whom had selflessly lain his soul down for her over and over again without hesitation. Her own internal howl of frustration mingled with the lilting voice of the ice maiden as she wailed again for the young woman to calm herself, to let her support her. But Rukia was too far gone in her insecurities, her ears deafened to any words other than her own condemnations of her character. And then, Shirayuki was silenced. The ice maiden, forced into a tiny corner of her mistress's mind, was trapped and helpless until Rukia could regain some control over her inner turmoil.

Gasping and gulping down painfully large mouthfuls of air in a vain attempt to ease the rapid rise and fall of her chest, Rukia felt Ukitake move closer beside her, felt his reiatsu coil around her own in comfort though it simply caused her to flinch away and retreat deeper into herself. She felt his cool hands grasp and distorted words roll over her without penetrating the blanket of panic that engulfed her senses. She was panting, rasping desperately as she fought the instinct to lash out and flee. Struggling to withhold her confused senses as her brain shuffled through the possibilities that she could pass off the embrace as platonic. It was possible; Renji always had been highly physical an individual, with light touches that lingered a little too long, a hug that appeared overly friendly. Those she could explain, but what about the kiss?

'Rukia, calm yourself.' Ukitake tried again. His voice, heavy with concern as the girl panted harder, obviously failing to regain her composure. Reaching out cautiously, his gentle fingers curled around the petite woman's fragile wrists as he tried to pry her onto her knees rather than uncomfortably folded in upon herself. 'If you do not calm down, we cannot address this.'

But still, the words bounced uselessly around her skull before being swallowed by distress. He may as well have been howling at her in the same unintelligible voice of a starving Hollow for all of her understanding at that moment. Rukia closed her eyes and curled tighter around her knees; clutching her wrist in one hand as she burrowed her face into the underside of her forearm in despair. Her fingers reached up, twisting and curling around her head and tugging at tresses of black satin until her scalp throbbed. _Could not address this?_ How could he propose such an absurd notion? There was nothing that she could say to explain away what her brother had seen. The kiss that they had shared was exactly as a kiss should be between lovers, passionate and encompassing. It would be impossible to bury beneath the guise of a platonic gesture. And then, there were her actions. Her foolish, instinctual and irrational need to fold herself up against the warmth and security of he who held her; burrowing into the wide arms of the man, who made no secret of how much he wanted her, as tightly as she had, quickly quashed any misinterpretation. The clinch simply was everything that it appeared to be, an embrace of established lovers, a man enjoying the affections of his woman.

She could hear the pale man talking still; no doubt they were words of sound advice and gentle comfort. He had used the same tone of voice now as he had when he had aided her in those dark months as she worked through her grief over the loss of Shiba-fukutaicho. A loss that _she_ had caused. A tragedy brought about because of her cowardice and her stupidity, her stubbornness and her inexperience. A painful, strangled sob wrenched her throat raw and escaped her lips then, and her treacherous mind, now unrestrained in her grief, summoned the image of her first and unrequited love. She watched at her own side, as though separated from her form as it was kneeling, her robes muddied and her flesh chilled, drenched to the bone by the sudden downpour. Her arms were thrown up and her hands trembled as they wrapped around Shirayuki's hilt in a grip that could not be broken. Rukia whimpered; she didn't want to relive this moment. She didn't want to see Kaien's gentle face and kind eyes as they gazed down at her. She didn't want to hear his quaking voice thanking her for her loyalty to the division, and to him even as his blood rolled the tempered steel piercing him and reached her fingertips. And she did not want to feel the drops of rain that pattered her cheek and mingled with her tears. She did not want to relive the loss of a man that would never have been hers.

And then her imagination forced a change in the scenario, showing her another she had lost once and she now stood to lose again. The gentle eyes grew more angled, the iris's heating as brown swirled away blue and a reddish hue that glistened with desire and emotion sparked like embers. His gentle smile curled a little too much to one side, exposing a slightly sharp canine in a proud and cocky grin. Long, strong limbs tangled with her own short and slender ones as she was enveloped in an embrace that reached and softened her tempered heart. Black, tribal markings stood prominently against lightly tanned flesh, shadowed muscle flexing beneath them at her caresses and sweeping touches. Crimson strands slid between her fingers like silk as she crashed her lips to his and greedily took all that was offered. Reiatsu flared around her fiercely, and a signature that was not her own marked her, claimed her. It wrapped her into its protective embrace, shielding her while as it also scorched the air between them. Tendrils of pulsing energy threaded nimbly through her own as the man allowed her to claim him back. He was willingly giving himself to her completely. And Rukia's heart finally reached for him, singing out to his in joy and completion. This love was returned. This was real. This man was hers. And now, this was teetering dangerously on a blades edge, this was what could be lost still to her stupidity and inexperience.

Rukia's eyes snapped open as confusion fled and she flung herself upwards and into a crouch, almost colliding the crown of her head with Jūshirō's jaw in her haste. Ukitake-taichō had informed her that he could sense Renji's unique signature lingering upon her skin, intertwined within her own. So, did that mean..? Oh, god, what had she done?

'Nii-sama can sense it on him?' she breathed, her words trembling under her fear. She cringed and cursed her cowardice as she turned her wide eyes to her captain, pleading that Jūshirō understand the severity of the revelation. 'Byakuya, my brother, he will feel me on Renji.'

* * *

Byakuya's chin lifted sharply, slate grey eyes glancing to the closed office door before the lashes flickered in the barest narrowing and shifted to watch the broad back of his fukutaichō as the red headed man moved. Renji had risen from behind his desk and headed toward the hand basin discretely set behind the beautifully crafted ornament divide that stood proudly in the corner of the room, most likely with the intent to clean the ink that would, without a doubt, have been staining his thick fingers.

Gaze sliding back to the document in hand, Byakuya's shoulders twitched uncomfortably as if something brushed against the nape of his neck. Rukia's unique signature had been tickling at the edges of his own reiatsu for a while now, an odd sensation to be sure. But even as he knew his sister to be within her own divisions' boundaries, he was still able to pick up flickers of her unique pattern as strongly as though she were wandering the Sixth's halls. An invisible shudder coursed his nerve endings. It gave him the uncomfortable sensation of being watched, as though eyes that he couldn't see tracked his movements. Byakuya's abilities to feel another's presence were highly sensitive and acute as one would expect of a captain. He had first noticed the reiatsu as soon as Renji had reported for his duties, Rukia's presence dancing mischievously through his mind. Despite the clinch this brute and his sister had shared, Byakuya refused to believe this to be a residual touch that would remain upon Renji's own and forced himself to relate it to a self-comforting need to reach for his sisters energies. It was a new and disconcerting habit that stemmed from the fear that enveloped him after his almost losing her to Ichimaru's Shinso; as well as from the sudden onslaught of discoveries that he had suffered that morning upon his own division's grounds.

Twisting and undulating, yet always elusive as it rolled over and under the invisible waves in the air, the reiatsu never lingering long enough for the raven haired noble to snatch a hold of it and confirm just where it originated. Instead, the soft and feather light brushes both teased and tormented him. Retreating until they all but vanished when he discovered a strong path to follow to the source, fleeing coyly as he began raising his own energy's touch. And yet, to his frustration, he knew it remained, toeing along the very edges of his senses, never quite hiding completely. Skirting around his seeking pulses and tugging his attention in another direction, only to dart away once more just as he felt he had caught it. It deliberately confused him, and Byakuya Kuchiki did not appreciate lack of understanding any situation that he discovered his person to be included in.

In an attempt to collect his thoughts and settle the nervous agitation that nagged at him, the elegant raven closed his eyes and shuffled through the scenarios that had unfolded in the dawn hours. Yet another circumstance he had found himself not fully understanding. Oh, he understood the mechanics. Renji was a young male and Rukia a female. Both shared a history and a social relationship with the other, so it made sense that the two could venture into more intimate relations. It was simple and bitterly obvious in its foundation to any with a rational mind. But what tightened Byakuya's throat in frustration was his own incomprehension of how he should react to the scene he had witnessed between the two Shinigami, and it bothered him that he did not seem to understand if he should discourage the relationship or not.

Renji was shockingly incapable of hiding his emotions whenever he caught sight of the adopted Kuchiki. Much to the frustration of the sixth division taichō, the youth's energies would flare and simper around hers, as though it were an over excited puppy desperate to play, and the redhead himself would strain and wiggle with delight until Byakuya spared the boy humiliation by turning him loose. What he hadn't yet understood was that the affection was returned. Rukia's demure posture would soften and her bored gaze would sharpen in interest at the barest flash of red. And her eyes came alive, those indigo orbs that were usually so flat and guarded from the world, danced with inner fire at the mere sight of her childhood friend. Even her proper speech slipped and occasionally vanished into the rough and crude dialect of Inuzuri, a painful reminder of Rukia's origin and the bond the two shared.

A bond that Byakuya reluctantly realized he would never share with either of them, Rukia or his lost Hisana.

Unsettled thoughts breached his composure, invading his current grievance with the flighty reiatsu and dominating with the memory of witnessed open affection. It was not that he didn't understand the need for affection –as one all too often believed the whispered rumors that encircled his guarded demeanor- quite to the contrary, it was that Byakuya understood it far too well.

His heart clenched. Since Aizen's betrayal and the upheaval within Seireitei, not to mention the facing down of his terrified yet furious second in command and the feeling Gin's Shinso running through his side, a new and powerful sense of sibling loyalty had descended upon Byakuya's mind. It warred constantly with his ingrained loyalty to his noble heritage and led him to the defense of the young woman from the cruel attentions of his family's elders far more frequently in these past months than in the past fifty or more years since her adoption. And yet, he had never felt so removed and isolated from the young woman as he did now. His nimble fingers twirled the fude lightly in their tips as he strategized imminent confrontations of which he would find himself in the not so distant future. He perceived many heated discussions with the family elders over the outcome of such a joining between these two souls should they discover the union before he could intervene.

He was painfully aware that they would summon him, voice their agitations and demand that he convince the girl against it. Arguing that, 'one of Kuchiki blood was honor-bound to encourage the attentions only of another noble and that she was to reject the advances of a common street urchin.' To which, he would gently yet firmly remind them that Rukia, being Rukon-born and a Kuchiki by marriage only, she did not share the noble bloodline and was, therefore, released of any such bind.

He peered at the youth from the corner of his eye, hidden beneath thick dark lashes, as Renji cleansed his hands. Red-amber orbs scowling as he scrubbed at a particularly stubborn stain on the heel of his palm with a nail.

And then there was Renji to consider in all of this. As an outsider to both the Kuchiki house as well as noble traditions, Renji was an unstable element that had found itself carelessly tossed into a rigorously controlled procedure. He was too young, too naive to understand and blissfully ignorant of the complicated path that his heart had set him journeying upon. Despite his sharing no connections to the Kuchiki name, Byakuya would find himself defending the young man from the cruel games of a Nobleman's sly politics. It was here that Byakuya would have to tread with caution. Renji held no substantial wealth to contribute and his breeding and lineage was best left to one's imagination. With little material substance to offer, the Elders would fall upon him as vultures a carcass, eager and determined to shred and sully the name Abarai with unabashed delight. Byakuya could not overtly defend his subordinate, it would greatly unsettle the Elders, nor could he agree and participate in the slanderous actions if his family counsel. If Rukia were to discover that he had, she would not be above silently punishing her brother by secreting herself from the family in order to continue the affair between them.

No, here Byakuya intended to hold his hand to his chest as he did seem to possess one counter-play that would be hard to ignore. Renji's status as Byakuya's own fukutaicho was a wildcard in this power-play. Though he was born in the Rukon, the status of fukutaichō carried a certain weight of respect. It would prove his strength of character, his pure intent to serve under the strict rules of the Gotei 13, and if that still failed to quell the old fools, the subject of Bankai achievement of one so young would certainly silence them. A powerful warrior would be an asset to any clan.

On the subject of silencing individuals, Byakuya seemed to recall that when Renji had entered the office to report to his day's duties, the usually loud young man was oddly quiet. He had slunk into the room; his eyes downcast and his posture submissive. Even his thick mane of hair hung limply and less defiant of gravity, damp and disheveled and sticking to his neck; as though he'd barely scraped it back into its usual tail before entering the office. The young lieutenant had offered a polite and quiet nod of greeting before he wordlessly settled at his desk and drew his haphazardly stacked pile of files, accounts and training plans before him, but that was all. He then flipped through them before setting his pen of split bamboo atop his desk, uncapped the ink that he had prepared the evening before and began detailing the divisions expenses without uttering a single word of complaint.

That was unusual in its own right. Renji never silently dived into his administrative duties. He made no secret of the fact he felt paperwork to be a waste of his time, time that he'd sooner spend demolishing the practice fields as he began to learn greater control over his Bankai, or kicking a few of the lesser talented of his lower and non-ranked Shinigami on to the field to unwillingly participate in his practice, forcing them to focus on their own short comings. It was a habit that he had failed to break since arriving from the Eleventh and one that Byakuya seemed loathed in discouraging. Its effectiveness far outweighed the crude simplicity that smacked a little too much of the all-out brawls that were common place under Zaraki's captaincy. In short, Renji liked to be active, meaning that usually when he was shut in as he was now he'd complain and sulk, sigh and huff, tut and grumble in the manner of a child who'd been given a chore that they disliked.

That had been the moment; as Renji had pulled his piles of papers toward him, that Byakuya decided that the younger man was hiding something from him.

Rinsing the ink and water from his hands, Renji turned on his heel, and striding past his captain, he not-so-subtly wiped his fingers against his black kosode. Byakuya closed his eyes as he felt the stormy reiatsu of his subordinate skim along his own, he could taste the thickness of air that a promised tropical downpour brought to the back of his tongue. He knew this signature, the scent; it was unmistakably Renji's. But then, as he breathed the heavy air out, a light, clean and crisp rush of a winters frost engulfed his senses in its place. A scent most decidedly not Renji's and most certainly had no business being about his person. He inhaled again, tasting the heavy storm immediately. '_Abarai_' He confirmed in his mind. He exhaled, cool and sweet, like ice frosted berries… _'Rukia?'_

He felt a pang of irritation twinge behind his ribs. Irritation that he firmly decided was to be directed at the conformation of Rukia's signature upon the youths. It should not be so intertwined with Abarai's after a simple kiss, that even he -Byakuya Kuchiki- could not immediately untangle them. And then irritation flared into anger with this realization, and his mind was suddenly flooded with the knowledge that Rukia, being curled in the Rukongai brutes' arms as she demanded his lips to place tender kisses upon her own, was not a new development. His jaw clenched as he tried futilely to control his rampant imaginings of probable interactions that he had not yet stumbled upon. Rukia was his sister, perhaps only by name, but it was enough for his newly developing sense of sibling loyalty to overwhelm his reasoning. It was enough to cause Byakuya a conflict that he was not accustomed to.

Her engagements with the lieutenant of his division were private matters between the two. But despite his knowing this, witnessing her encouragement and indeed her delight as Renji had dropped his lips to hers, had violent and blind fury sweeping Byakuya's limbs. Fury that had quickly dissipated to pangs of aching jealousy that lanced through his throat, for now it seemed that Renji was seeking to steal her away from him. Byakuya had discovered, since his recovery, a reluctant understanding and fondness for his youthful lieutenant. The young Shinigami was bold and boisterous, but sensitive and uncertain. He was strong willed to almost the cusp of stubbornness and deceptively intelligent. But what Byakuya found most interesting was that this waif from the Rukongai had an unwavering grasp of loyalty, noble intent and held pride in himself. He knew Abarai to be a good man, who was honest to a fault, but despite all of this, the one feature that Byakuya found himself constantly fixating on, even after unearthing a willingness to defend the same point from the Kuchiki Elders, was the common blood coursing the young man's veins.

Byakuya allowed himself an internal grumble. He blamed his fixation on the brutal regime that had shaped and blinkered his own childhood. Where he was taught that a noble name and breeding were the craftsmen that sculpted a man of any worth, and Abarai lacked both. With a calm and controlled exhale, the Kuchiki head lowered his fude.

_::It is not becoming of the Kuchiki Head to sulk as though an impudent child, Master.:: _Senbonzakura's voice breezed from behind the sharp twinge, soothing the bitterness that rushed forth. _::Take a moment to settle your wounded dignity and calmly analyze just what has vexed you so.::_

_:It is the matter of which requires analysis that vexes me.: _Byakuya retorted sharply, yet he softened his breathing and carefully cleared his mind until he found himself no longer inside the neat offices of his Division's barracks, staring blankly the same beautifully scripted kanji upon his page, but settled serenely beneath one of the many beautiful sakura and plum trees that blossomed eternally within his inner world, his spiritual sanctum. He carefully opened his eyes and blinked once before the delicate scent of petals engulfed him. Inhaling slowly, he tasted the scent, considered and then turned his eyes toward the petals of powdered blue that fluttered from the low branches of his sheltering tree. _:I see that the plum blossoms are scattering early this year. It is pleasing to know that they flourish so wonderfully here.:_

A cluster of petals danced together in a ballet of soft colours and enticing aromas, swirling and dipping, weaving and darting, toying against a breeze that scattered more from the heavily laden limbs of the graceful trees. The delicate, papery leaves whispered to him softly, singing a melody of peacefulness and balance.

_::If you are well, if you are strong, the blossoms will always bloom here. Petals will drop and scatter like a carpet, but they will continue to return.:: _The bodiless voice stirred the tiny cyclone of petals higher, swelling and ebbing as though physically manifesting the spirits words. _::Flowers are a resilient species, a new-born blossom even more so. Though her petals may be delicate, her tree fragile, and, though she may be easily ravished by drought, decimated by disease, with a little nurturing she will continue to flourish for _countless_ generations.:: _

Byakuya followed the dancing path of the coils of petals as they swirled together, drawing in greater numbers of brethren, blending and whispering against each other as their numbers swelled. Fascination touched his gun metal orbs as the petals stilled suddenly and fell away, revealing then, the slender form of an elegant man clad in elaborate armor. Senbonzakura stepped from his veil of petals, his movements graceful and fluid as he moved closer to his master.

_::Now that you have admired my domain, Master.:: _The spirit raised his hand as a soft flurry of petals skimmed his palm and along his arm like a live and tamed animal before disbursing and settling behind the warriors form. _::Perhaps you would be willing to discuss with me this unease you feel.::_

Byakuya turned his cool gaze upon the fearsome mask that covered the spirit's face. His lips puckered lightly as he considered the spirit's invitation. Senbonzakura's eyes shifted behind his mask, following his master's tiny actions that belied his discomfort, the molten blue flashing almost silver with the movements.

_::The human boy's attentions for your sister?::_

Byakuya shook his head, his long satin strands catching the breeze and fluttering about his shoulders. _:That is hardly a situation worthy of my concern. Kurosaki remains in the living realm, Rukia in Seireitei.:_

The warrior settled beside his master, the leather armor sifting against itself as the spirit shifted. _::But it is your sister that is centered in your concern?::_

Byakuya nodded without meeting his Zanpakutou's expectant gaze and offered no more words. Instead, he busied his focus in dragging slim fingers through the carpet of petals, blending colour and scent as he piled the soft blossoms at his hip. The warrior sighed at his master's childish diversion tactics, leaning over he grasped the noble's wrist, stilling the gathering of blossoms.

_::If you do not wish my counsel, Master, then why submerge your consciousness into my realm?::_

A shrug of shoulders, a shift of attention, and Byakuya turned his chin to his other hand that continued the blossom gathering. The spirit lifted his hand from trapping the Shinigami's wrist and immediately Byakuya began sifting through the petals again. Raising his palms to meet as a cup, he scattered the blended petals into his lap, before pressing his face into his palms and inhaling the comforting and perfumed scent of plum and cherry that now marked his flesh. He allowed a small and genuine smile to grace his lips before Senbonzakura's gaze prickled along his neck and Byakuya suddenly felt a little foolish. Ignoring a concern would not solve it. Playing in blossoms was not the best use of his time with his soul partner. But he had needed just these few minutes of not being Kuchiki-taichō burdened with the concerns of his division, of not being the head of the Kuchiki house and responsible for the documentation of Seireitei's histories. He just needed a few moments to be the boy he had once been who knew how to play and relax and enjoy the little pleasures that were sparse in a Shinigami's long lifetime. He needed a moments reprieve from the suffocation of rules and tradition.

Brushing his palms together, Byakuya's mind effortlessly switched to business once more. He raised his silver grey eyes and held his Zanpakutou's gaze. _:To you, what is it that makes a man noble? Is it his birth? Or perhaps his actions? Is it loyalty to protect only what society deems acceptable, or is it to stand for those who need you more desperately than those you are responsible for?: _

Senbonzakura blinked behind his mask. Dark lashes fluttering over crisp, blue orbs as he considered the noble's riddle. After a moment the spirit's voice fluttered forth on a current of confidence as he gave his answer. _::A noble heart is an honest heart. And thusly, a noble man is an honest man. His loyalty falls to those he is to serve first and to those of society last. He is not afraid to face down laws and orders if the result is to fulfil his honor-bound duty. He would rather give his life protecting those who are wronged by politics that are plagued by biased men, than live a half-life bound by the confines of a corrupt society.::_

Byakuya eyes narrowed sharply before flicking away from the spirits grinning mask. The scenario Senbonzakura built his opinion from felt rather like an unsubtle attack of his actions surrounding the events of Rukia's unjust execution. His blind eagerness to follow the expectations of social politics as his terrified sister suffered an unfair and biased trial; a promise to his family that overshadowed the one he bid to his beloved as she slipped from life and his fingers. The raven noble considered simply leaving the spiritual scape in a silent tantrum, for just an instant, before he lowered his gaze to his fingers as they idly traced the criss-crossing of gold and white leather at his sword's hilt. _:For one who is so eager to scold his Master for his childish behavior, I find your tone to be rather insulting and highly hypocritical.:_

_::Forgive me.:: _The spirit warrior lowered his head in apology. _::It was not my intention to offend you. I merely felt pursuing this conversation's conclusion in the round-about manner that it was headed to be a waste of our time. It is as though you have forgotten that we are bound, we are of the same consciousness.:: _Byakuya felt his shoulders tense as the mask raised level with his own stoic features, the painted snarl seemed oddly out of place as the voice that echoed behind was almost humored by his concerns. _::You have already decided that you would protect both, so what is it that causes you to hesitate Master?::_

Byakuya tilted his chin away and slid his eyes closed. _:What it is that concerns me, Senbonzakura, is just how quickly you seem to forget.: _he murmured softly, his voice had lost its usual confidence and the Kuchiki head sounded almost vulnerable. _ :Abarai is a feral soul. Indomitable, savage and wild, he is unsuitable for standing amongst the men of the noble families. And he despises me, fears me, and one is a fool if he feels that a cornered Inuzuri mongrel would not bare his fangs to a master.:_

Senbonzakura chuckled lightly. _::Why Master? If you have knowledge of his ferocity then you have the knowledge not to corner him and give him reason to bare his fangs.:: _The warrior spirit continued, his voice taking on a sharper edge in response to his master's childish rudeness as the man snorted over his words._ ::Abarai, despite his experiences, still acts with noble intent in his blade. If he did not, the child would have fallen to my blossoms. There would have been no question, no doubt that I would have destroyed him completely.:: _Senbonzakura sighed then, his heart growing weary of this conversation _::I do not believe your concern is of Abarai's fear of you, but your fear of him.::_

Byakuya's eyes snapped open, repelled from his internal sanctuary by his sword's sudden revelation. He blinked rapidly, trying to disburse the cloud of confusion that fogged his mind from his unexpected departure and found the widening of his pupils and startled expression to be mirrored by those of his second in command. Renji's sharply angled face, far too close in proximity for the noble's liking, dominated his view. Decades of training as a warrior threw the noble into action, his spine shot rigid, his shoulders pulling back as his hackles rose in surprise and his hand that had daintily held his fude, whipped up in preparation of a strike. 'What on earth..?! Abarai! Explain yourself!'

The young fukutaicho balked under the biting words that dripped from the raven man's lips with such venom that he felt he were the man's enemy. His alarm invoked his fight or flight instincts to automatically kick in. Instincts that had saved his hide more times than he cared to remember while he had been young, growing up and thieving his way through his miserable existence on the streets of Inuzuri. Those same deep rooted instincts probably saved him, even now, as he back-peddled out of eye gauging range. He raised his hands up, palms out, in a placating and submissive gesture. 'Whoa, whoa! I'm sorry, Taichō. Didn't expect ya t' come to like ya did. Kinda creepy seein' ya all spaced out n' unresponsive like that.'

Eyes darting warily, Renji scrubbed his hand over the nape of his neck, watching cautiously as his superior settled in his seat once more, his bolstered battle lust slowly lowering to little more than a simmer and those emotionless steel orbs pierced his awkward and uncomfortable grin. 'I jus' wanted to let ya know that I was gonna run a couple o' errands before I take th' groups out fer drills an' sword practice.' He held a handful of papers up and fanned them once, documents that already bore his own messy, spidery signature. 'Jus' need ya to sign an' finalize th' squads group allocations. This quarters totaled expenses fer treatments up in Division four, an' a couple o' disciplinary notices fer a couple o' snot nosed punks who think it's a good idea t' be the Division's clowns during wartime prep.'

Byakuya's chin lowered once in a single nod, fude already in hand, he took the stack of files from his vice-captain without so much as glancing up at him. His own elegant script quickly graced the documents and, as he set them aside for the ink to dry, he raised his eyes to settle upon Renji's features. He noted the sharp, clean lines of his jaw, the gentle slant to his narrow eyes. His features, elegant beneath the masculine angles of ink and flesh. Yes, Abarai was an attractive man, balanced beauty and brawn. And he found it irritatingly easy to understand the clamor amongst the female Shinigami within his division when they spied their lieutenant in varying states of undress during sword practice and his physical drills.

The younger man held Byakuya's gaze steadily, even as the taichō subconsciously raised the intensity of his reiatsu. It was unintended on Byakuya's part, yet he noticed Renji barely reacted to the influx of his high-level power. The tattooed brow twitched slightly and his lips tightened fractionally as though stealing himself against the sweet and heady scent of sakura and rainfall but that was all. Curiosity flared in the noble's chest. Keeping his head down, Byakuya dipped into himself experimentally and sent out a firmer wave, pressing against the edges of Renji's reiatsu barrier.

Renji notably flinched then. The reiatsu shield was a simple defensive mechanic that each Shinigami projected on an instinctual level. Much like what humans claimed to possess as a personal bubble, only the barrier of a Shinigami was tangible to other reiatsu. It was a comfort zone; an unspoken boundary that others were not permitted to breech without invitation. And Byakuya knew, despite his fukutaichō's friendly personality, Renji did not like feeling another's moving against his barrier. He did not like others to invade and become close to him without his approval. And, surprisingly, Renji's approval was not given freely. Unexpected contact and intrusions grated against the more deep rooted discomforts from his tragic childhood. While on the one hand, the man was fiercely loyal, open and likable; he was also awkward and surprisingly defensive. So, when Byakuya's pressure came in contact with his own, it was seen as an unwelcome and uninvited act, Renji's reiatsu bristled and didn't hesitate to flare right back at him, forcefully holding him away.

Calling his energies back to a more companionable level once again, Byakuya raised his head and met the younger man's stormy eyes. He could read Renji's discomfort easily in his posture, the rigid hold in the rise of his shoulders as he almost seemed to be trying to force his bulk outward and appear larger. A primal instinct intensified by the nature of his soul-partner. His startled confusion creased a tattooed brow as it cocked in a questioning gaze that Byakuya decided to feign an outward ignorance of. However, internally, he felt Renji's confusion reflected in his own.

_:How long has this boy been capable of withstanding our raised energies?: _He found himself demanding of his sword spirit.

_::It is hard to say, Master.:: _Senbonzakura's rich, honeyed voice responded from the noble's inner sanctum. _::He has found himself in a great many instances where his opponent has possessed a higher reiatsu than his own as of late. Perhaps it has been a gradual maturing in him since that first summoning of his Bankai into a true battle. Even now, he cannot maintain your eye for great length of time, but it will not be long before he is capable. And then, he will begin to discover just how great his true strength could become with the appropriate guidance.::_

_:And is it your intent that we should guide this child ourselves?:_

_::It is, Master. All personal conflict aside, he admires you. He would be a willing student, and his obedience to you is unquestionable.::_

Byakuya considered this as he shuffled the now dry papers together and handed them back to the still bewildered young Shinigami, who blinked hard once before he tucked them into his kosode. _:I am in agreement.: _Byakuya's internal voice softened. _:While I cannot deny his strength, his footwork and speed are what hinder him now. Brute strength will only carry him so far, offer him limited success. It will only be a matter of time before he finds himself facing a warrior with greater strength and his determination will not be enough to save him. Yet, if he were to combine his natural advantages with grace he will breech his limits.: _

'Sir?'

Byakuya's eyes lifted immediately, drawn sharply from his internal conversation, and took note of Renji's confusion and curious gaze. Lashes slowly closed over as he nodded at his fukutaicho and drew another of his own documents before him. Nodding a single time, Byakuya's voice rang out sharply. 'You are excused, Abarai-fukutaicho.'

By the time he reopened his eyes, Renji was gone, and in his wake he had left his captain with another developing headache.

* * *

And there we go. I hate editing. I especially hate it as I am British and my spell check on Word likes my spellings, yet on fanfiction it's American spelling and it gets tetchy with the use of vowels, yet it doesn't high-light Renji's drawling patterns. Odd. Anyways, I'm kinda hoping that it's been worth the wait even without smut and confrontation. There is confrontation coming up but I kinda wanted to not have the obvious brother/lover fight... at least not yet. lol

Read and review.

~Voice


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